


All alone tonight

by makesometime



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Masturbation in Shower, Post-Game(s), Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24473704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: “I’ve got another shoot later today, but jet lag is killing me.” She sighs, tossing her hair and frowning as it doesn’t move, a solid mass of product and heat-enhanced curls. “God I need to shower.”Akira smirks. “Don’t let me stop you.”“Perv.”
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	All alone tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am, back on my Persona 5 hype train for the first time in 3 years after making my way through Royal finally. 
> 
> This is just a little something I threw together after remembering quite how much I love Ann and Akira(/Ren/Protagonist). I hope you enjoy <3

“What time is it there?”

Ann hums thoughtfully, and he can just see her legs kicking up behind her when she tilts her head to hide a yawn behind her palm.

“Too _early.”_

He glances out of the window of their apartment, watching the sun sinking rapidly behind the tallest buildings on the horizon. He’ll never quite get used to that disparity, even if he logically understands that she’s halfway across the world.

The strap on her sleep top falls down, allowing him a view of the smooth creamy weight of her breast before she shifts again, pressing herself upright and tugging it back into place.

“I’ve got another shoot later today, but jet lag is killing me.” She sighs, tossing her hair and frowning as it doesn’t move, a solid mass of product and heat-enhanced curls. “God I need to shower.”

Akira smirks. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Perv.” She shoots back, but it’s fond, not venomous. “You know how hot I like my showers, the camera would steam up.”

Stretching his legs out, Akira reclines back against the pillows (full and fluffy as Ann demands). “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

He delights in still being able to make her blush, after years of being together and his ring upon her finger. Ann sings some foreign pop song under her breath as she clambers off the hotel bed, wandering through a frankly palatial-looking suite. 

“Did you get the package I sent yet? I couldn’t access the tracker with the shitty public WiFi downtown.”

Akira shakes his head, even though she’s currently not looking at him. “Not today, unless they tried and didn’t leave a note.”

He has the pleasure of being up close and personal with Ann Takamaki’s face when she swipes out of their video call to bring up her mail app. Even with day-old makeup and bloodshot eyes she is stunning enough to make his breath catch. 

He’s glad he sent Ryuji home before she called - the other man would surely have had something to say about his inevitably sappy expression.

“Ugh, no, it’s saying tomorrow instead. Will you be home?”

“Yeah, I should be. Are you going to tell me what’s in this mysterious package?”

She swipes at her phone again and then beams, drawing back a bit when he’s filling her screen once more. “I can show you one of the items, actually.” She says, flailing behind her and smacking around until her hand lights upon whatever she’s looking for.

With a flourish, she holds up a European copy of Vague. Side by side with her own face, Ann the model ( _his fiancée the famous fashion model_ ) stares back at him, as bewitching as ever.

“Wow, Ann you look incredible! This is big news, right?”

She nods enthusiastically, hair still a solid mass around her face. It’s still a little odd not to see it bouncing in her customary pigtails, even if she’s not worn the style for years. “First model of Japanese descent on the cover of Vague outside of Asia.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

She flushes at the simple sincerity of his words, setting the magazine down and looking away, as if her pleased embarrassment will be less obvious to him. 

“Thank you, Akira.”

There’s so much more he wants to say to her as she wanders around the room again, picking through clothing options to go to the shoot location. He can see through the windows that she’s way up over the city, few other buildings around as impressively high-rising as hers. That seems oddly right - he’s always thought her far above the likes of him.

“I should probably go…” She sighs, looking mournfully at him through the camera. “I need to get ready.”

“I wasn’t joking, you know.” He murmurs, catching the slight widening of her eyes at the huskiness that unexpectedly fills his tone. “Don’t let me stop you showering…”

He watches as she chews on her lip, looking down at herself and then out at the view. There really isn’t anyone to oversee them, and her obvious pondering of the logistics and lack of telling him to get over himself makes a faint warmth blossom in the pit of his stomach.

With a faint and airy sigh, Anna turns back to him, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

Ann glances around, then finds a place to set her phone down. With a languid stretch, she turns away from him, toying with the waistband of her shorts before pulling her sleep top over her head. The long length of her spine and the smooth expanse of her thighs make sensation pulse lazily across his groin, body reacting to the sight of more of Ann than he’s seen and touched for weeks. 

She fusses around with something on the bed, her ass pitching closer to the camera when she bends over, flashes of the sides of her breasts all he’s treated to. Akira settles his hand over his cock, the warm pressure of it enough to ease things along for now.

Ann turns eventually, and he curses quietly at the gentle swaying of her breasts as she wanders thoughtlessly out of the range of the camera. The illusion of her apparent forgetfulness is broken when he hears her chuckle faintly off-screen and then wander back, now wholly without clothing, and bends at the waist to peer at him.

“Enjoying the show?”

Akira narrows his eyes at her, and then tips his phone down to show his crotch, the line of his growing erection visible through his grey sweatpants. He makes a gentle fist around himself through the material and grins at her breathless _'oh'._

When he reverts the camera to focus on his face, Ann is cupping her breast and thumbing the hardening bud of her nipple. “I’ve missed that.”

“It’s missed you.”

Ann snorts, fetching up the phone and carrying it with her through the suite until she reaches the bathroom. He watches, seeking for glimpses of more of her form in reflective surfaces in the background, as she flicks on the light and then grimaces at whatever she sees in the mirror.

“Even high end hotels have shitty bathroom lighting.”

“You look perfect to me.”

Ann dips her chin, looking at him through her eyelashes. “That’s your dick talking.”

Akira laughs, shimmying his hips as he slides his pants down enough to free his cock. He tugs up his shirt enough to expose the abs that his Ryuji-enforced workouts have gifted him after a few fallow years and then flicks the camera down to give her a show.

“Mm.” She purrs. “That’s a sight.”

Bringing her back to his face, Akira wraps his free hand around himself and squeezes, enjoying the way Ann gasps at whatever that feeling does to his expression.

“Who’s the perv now?” He shoots back, his hand steadily moving up and down as he watches her go about readying for the shower.

“You’re the one who suggested this.” She replies, her voice steady and her attention elsewhere as she cleans her face of yesterday’s makeup. 

There’s nothing inherently erotic about the sight, but he’s so starved of her presence and the framing is just perfectly focused on the lean line of her stomach and the curve of her chest that Akira has more than enough to fuel his actions (though the warmth of his hand is a poor substitute for losing himself inside Ann).

“How’s it going there?” She asks, casual as you like, opening the shower door and turning on the water.

“ _Fine.”_ He grinds out, twisting his wrist at the little pout she shoots him.

“Sounds like you might need a little more to work with.”

He watches, wide eyed and mute, as she steps under the stream of water and lets out a sigh. The showerhead is one of those ostentatiously large rainfall types, leaving her surrounded by streams of water that bead on her skin as she twirls and stretches under the flow. Her nipples peak at the change in temperature and she moves her hands over them to tweak and pull.

Akira _aches_ with the desire to be the one touching her, to be the one drawing such delicious sounds from her lips. His teeth grit with remembered sensation of tugging and biting at her nipples, his thumb rubbing the underside of his cock when Ann peers at him and smirks that little smirk that he knows means trouble.

Running her fingers through her hair, Ann combs out the previous day’s product and then slides her hands down, all show, over the plain of her stomach and down between her legs.

Akira groans, the sight of her leant back against the shower wall and rubbing at her clit more than enough to make him throb but now she’s _staring_ at him, eyes fixed on the screen of her phone.

“I wish you were here.”

Ann laughs, bright and happy, her fingers plucking her nipples and squeezing her breasts as he is so enamoured with doing. “If you were here I wouldn’t have even made it to the shower.”

She has a point, and it fills his head with a hundred delightful images. Moving and wrestling and laughing with her on a giant hotel room bed. Taking her over the bathroom counter so that she has no choice but to watch them in the mirror. Surviving on nothing but room service for days because they can’t keep their hands off each other.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” She gasps, hand moving quicker at her core.

“You. Always you, Ann. How good you feel when I’m fucking you. How much I want to be with you.” He grunts, tightening his grip. “How much I love you.”

She keens at that, chin lifting and chest heaving as she chases her orgasm. Akira greedily drinks in the sight, remembers what it feels like to have her arch into him, tense as a bowstring as he moves inside her. Soon. Soon, he’ll have her back.

He spills over his hand and belly when she calls his name, hips jerking up into his touch as she shudders and moans halfway across the world.

“Fuck, Akira.” She huffs, twisting water out of her hair and moving from under the spray on shaky legs. “Let me see.”

Feeling only the faintest twinge of embarrassment, he turns the camera to his stomach, drags his fingertips across the mess of spend on his skin.

“That’s so hot.” She murmurs, shivering when he shows her his face once more. “I love you.”

Akira smiles. “I love you too Ann.”

She plucks up the phone with a bashful smile, as if she hasn’t just put on one hell of a show for him. “Now, I need to have an actual shower without my horny fiancé watching. You gonna be alright?”

“Not until you’re home.” He says, laughing when she pulls a face at him. “Yes, Ann. I gotta clean up too. You go kick ass at your shoot.”

“Thank you.” She says, blowing him a kiss. “Sleep well.”

She signs off after another round of _I love yous,_ leaving him alone in their apartment once more. With a sigh, Akira kicks his pants off completely and tugs off his shirt, heaving himself off the bed for the bathroom in what is admittedly a far better mood than before speaking with his girl.


End file.
